


Make Sure You Know Before You Go

by gala_apples



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: BDSM, Multi, Open Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7279297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindsay loves Michael, but sometimes she needs Meg and Gavin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Sure You Know Before You Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mavinseg Week Day three: Non-AU. 
> 
> This was inspired by Michael starting to sing [Too Many Dicks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=21Hy_11HpNk) in some video, I think it was a VS, and Lindsay joining in. I knew I had to do something with it.

“Too many doms on the dance floor. Too many doms!” Michael sings beside her, fast enough that if there _was_ anyone else in the room, they probably wouldn’t parse the word change, they’d just think it was the Conchords song.

Lindsay’s not anyone. She stops, literally freezes with her hand halfway to the coffee cup. A part of her is waiting for a meltdown; a weep that she has to help coax out, a snarky fit that she listens to patiently because there is a underlayer of shame underneath. When nothing comes from Michael she breaches it herself. “Can you explain?”

“You’ve been all over my ass this weekend. I’ve given you some time to chill the fuck out but you’re getting worse. So I’m safewording. Stop fucking praising me, jesus.”

Lindsay frowns. “I just thanked you for brewing more and giving me the last cup.”

“No you didn’t!” her husband shouts, his normal loud exasperation. “I didn’t give you the coffee, I let you have it. You’d fucking know that, if you weren’t in this mood! And thanking someone usually involves saying _thank you_. Not cupping someone’s neck when they’re just innocently refilling the sugar shaker -- _not_ looking down in fucking deference damn it-- and whispering good in their ear. You need to stop, with me. Go do it to him.”

“You don’t mind?”

“You don’t have to ask me every time. Better him than me.”

Lindsay could text Meg. They text all the time. But she needs to move, need to walk this off. It always fucks her up to find out she’s been acting dommy without specifically intending to. Like she’s some shitty Christian Grey motherfucker who can’t keep her crap off other people. When it comes to this issue, it’s a blessing and a curse to have Michael for a husband. It kind of sucks that he doesn’t have a single submissive bone in his body, let alone enough to enjoy subbing. That said, it’s good he’s dominant enough to immediately call her on her crap. She’s had terrible moments in the past when she’s dated guys soft enough to just go with kink they’re not really into, hoping she’ll settle down with time while not actually _saying_ that until their first big fight, when suddenly she’s this creepy dominatrix slut. After several cycles of that Lindsay’ll take Michael’s _no fuckin’ thanks_ happily.

Lindsay finds Meg filming a The Know spot. They have to do about ten takes, Ashley’s wearing a new lipstick and her hair keeps sticking when she moves her head. Lindsay waits, doesn’t interrupt. She’s not exactly feeling patient but she’s trying to progress through the day with better boundaries than she started with. Breaking what little professionalism broadcast needs to pull her SO over isn’t helpful for that trajectory. 

Finally though, Meg’s finished. “Hey Linds, what’s up? Bit early for lunch, but- Unless you have jet lag? You haven’t been anywhere in the last week, have you?”

“Not coming for food. Just wanted to talk.”

“Okay?” Meg squeaks, a little confused. Probably the ‘should be texting’ thing.

“So, uh. You and Gavin looking for some company any time soon?”

Casually Meg asks “not Smash Bros?”

It’s a code. If Lindsay does actually just want to hang out and play video games she says something like ‘why not Smash Bros’, or ‘lets play Mario Party’. But if she wants to make a sex meeting without using keywords in such a nosey public place... “Smash Bros doesn’t work for me.” After all, it doesn’t. She and Meg are both doms. Boys doing the smashing is no fun for anyone.

Meg flashes Lindsay one of those great square smiles of hers, lipchap and seven miles of teeth. “We’ll figure it out when you come over tonight.”

“Awesome. Great.”

Back in the AH office, Lindsay makes her way to Michael. Not discreetly, because there’s nothing that makes you more immediately the centre of attention than appearing sneaky. No, she just heads straight for him, dodging whatever the fuck Jeremy’s doing with the VR set. “I’m gonna hang out with them tonight.”

“Fucking thank christ.” Michael exclaims.

“What’s that?” Ryan looks up from his computer to ask, always the most politely attentive in a given room.

“Oh, hanging out with this pleb and his awesome girlfriend while Michael writes his memoirs,” Lindsay explains, gesturing to Gav.

“Good choice. I’ve made it myself a time or two,” Geoff says.

Yeah. Lindsay wonders about that sometimes. There’s even that Happy Hour where they go toy shopping. She’s never asked Geoff or Griffon though. Even at Rooster Teeth, company of telling your most embarrassing moments on a podcast, people are entitled to a bit of privacy.

***

Lindsay’s first action when she enters the Turney-Free home is to coo in delight as Smee worms between her ankles, and give him the skritch he deserves for being better than humans. But after she gets as much of it out of her system as it’s gonna get, she goes looking for her hosts.

They’re in the living room together, unsurprising. He’s not kneeling, but anyone could look at them and see the dynamic. Meg and Gavin don’t do 24/7. It’s more accurate to say it’s 15/7. They work together, and they keep the dynamic out of anything seen by viewer or coworker. The moment they’re home though, Gavin’s collar goes on, and it doesn’t come off until vanilla friends visit. It’s a sacred kind of object, just like Michael’s tungsten ring, or her own gold band. No one has to explain that to her, Lindsay just knows. Even the first time they did this -that first awkward time when they thought it’d be cheating if Michael wasn’t present and he just wasn’t into it, watching like it was some art nouveau movie with subtitles- Lindsay understood why Meg requested she not touch Gavin’s collar. Now though, they have a better solution.

“So we’re taking this off now, sweets.” Meg’s fingers are tucked through the top of his collar so her knuckles are against his throat and chin. He doesn’t say no. Gavin doesn’t like saying no.

Meg tugs him one-handedly until he’s laying down, face down on her lap. The clasp is at the back like a standard necklace and she makes quick work of it. Lindsay can see Gavin tense up at having a bare neck, the kind of tension that leads to a jiggling leg and other fidgeting when it’s prolonged. Nothing that looks out of place at the office, it’s just the way he is. Until he’s not. 

The jewellry box that’s on the side table is their better solution. Meg opens it to reveal the guest collar she and Lindsay bought when they realised this substitution dominance was going to become a thing. The collar is thinner and less padded. Definitely not meant for 24/7 wear. Which is the point of it, after all. To keep Gavin secure, while telling his subconscious this isn’t going to be forever, he’s going to go back to his girlfriend soon. Aware of how uncomfortable Gavin feels, Meg quickly curls it around his throat. 

Hand stroking through his hair, she says, “you’re always mine, Gavin. But for right now we’re being nice. We’re sharing. You’re going to be Lindsay’s too.” 

Gavin arches his neck to look at her while not moving from his sprawl over Meg. “Hi Lindsay.”

“Gav, call me Miss.”

“Hi Miss.”

And now it’s okay that Michael would only say it with enough sarcasm to kill the mood, because Gavin says Miss and _means_ it.

“Sit up Gavin, okay?” It’s her last offer. If something’s wrong he’ll say. Otherwise this is about to be her show.

He does what she says. He sits. Now she has to figure out how to get what she wants through the vessel of a friend and sometimes partner. 

Gavin hates blindfolds. His career and his hobbies both depend on visuals and the idea of losing acuity freaks him out. It’s not a hard limit, but it’s a stress. Like predicament bondage, or size queening to an uncomfortable degree. Only to be done when some hearty aftercare is on the menu. Aftercare’s what Lindsay wants right now. Needs, maybe, if the way she’s pushing it on her vanilla husband is any indicator. Breaking someone down can be soothing or exhilarating, depending, but comforting and helping them put themselves back together is the pinnacle right now.

“I’m going to put a blindfold on you,” Lindsay says steadily.

“Okay Miss.”

It’s not as much enthusiasm as she could demand, but she understands why it’s lacking. She’s not going to push for more. The toy chest, a beautifully intricate carved crate Griffon made them, is already unlocked. Lindsay pulls out the blindfold, a navy velvet affair. She slips it over Gavin’s forehead and knowingly leaves it a bit askew.

“Fix it if you can still see,” she orders.

Without hesitation Gavin pulls it down further. It’s a test he’s passed, and while she isn’t surprised, she is relieved. She needed this obedience, and it bodes well for the rest of the evening. 

***

Lindsay snuggles deeper into the duvet until the blanket’s against her chin and only her face must suffer the air conditioning. Michael runs warm so he rests his head at the top of his pillow, allowing his neck and part of his chest to be bombarded by AC. A better option would probably be two separate twin sized blankets, thick down for her, microfibre for him, but then their hips and arms and butts wouldn’t rub in the night. Lindsay’s not willing to give that up for convenience yet.

Out of nowhere, Michael asks “so did he come?”

“You know it’s not about that.” At the beginning of negotiating this all, certain things were made very clear.

“Yeah, I know. But did he? I’m trying to imagine it.”

“You could come next time,” Lindsay offers. Every kinkster knows that nothing stays the same forever. They’ve gotten into a strong routine of Michael safewording when she comes on too strong, so she can go over alone, but so what? If Michael wants to give voyeurism another go, she really can’t see Meg and Gavin objecting.

“Nah. D/s isn’t my thing. Mostly a turn off. I just think it’s hot to imagine you three having vanilla sex.”

Lindsay snorts imagining someone calling what happened earlier vanilla. “Whatever works for you, babe.” If Michael can indulge her breaking Gavin to bits and reshaping him, she can indulge his dreams of oral and PIV.


End file.
